


Sleepless in Skyhold (Part IV)

by SisterAmell



Series: Sleepless in Skyhold [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterAmell/pseuds/SisterAmell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the very first time, Cullen Rutherford is about to receive what he imagines will be the greatest pleasure of his life. He has dreamed of the sensation of a woman's lips around his girth, the wet heat of her tongue and the pull of her cheeks. He is so hard, so ready.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless in Skyhold (Part IV)

For the very first time, Cullen Rutherford is about to receive what he imagines will be the greatest pleasure of his life. He has dreamed of the sensation of a woman's lips around his girth, the wet heat of her tongue and the pull of her cheeks. He is so hard, so  _ready_ .

When his brothers in the Order back in Kirkwall would sneak out to visit the Blooming Rose, they would often return with sordid tales of acts beyond Cullen's imagination. Though he rebuked them with gruff words and a disapproving gaze, he could not shake some of those images from his thoughts. There had been a small note of envy on his part towards the young Templars who could leave their duty outside the doors of the brothel and cast themselves into sexual abandon. Not a patron of the Rose himself, Cullen never understood the practice of paying coin for a woman's company – if she does not wish to be with you, then no amount of silver is going to change that – but he cannot deny that the temptation existed. Especially that particular service which inflamed his brothers so readily. _Better than sex,_ they used to say. _No other feeling like it._

He is lying on his back on the end of the bed, legs hanging over the edge. Petani Lavellan, in all her naked perfection, is sliding down between his knees. Cullen heart is pounding. Unsure whether he should sit up or lie still, he lifts his head slightly and watches the Inquisitor kneel on the floor. Her hands are upon his thighs, warm fingers clawing gently at his flesh and causing the hairs to rise in anticipation.

“I've researched this,” she pants over his manhood, engrossed in the sight of it. “I know that many women prefer to pull away at the finish.”

Cullen can't help but grin. “You've researched it? How so?” There is only a faint waver in his voice, which surprises even him.

Petani gives him an impish, but bashful, smile. “Books,” she replies. “I like... erotic stories.”

“Is that right?” He bites his lip, finding her expression adorable to the point that it momentarily distracts him from his arousal. He pushes himself up on his elbows, before reaching out to stroke her cheek. “You are so beautiful.”

“Stop that,” she pouts at him. “I'm trying to be dirty.” When the Commander just laughs, Petani affects a determined smirk. “I'll show you.”

It is so sudden, so intense, that Cullen jerks upwards with a bellow that rocks the tower with its might. He feels her mouth surround the head of his cock, the satin brush of her tongue dipping into the folds, swirling heat coating him thickly. On unsteady arms he remains half-sitting, trying to focus his eyes while fighting the dizzy parade of white sparks. He continues to moan – he can hear himself, but it sounds so far away – as Petani suckles experimentally on his tip. His body shudders with every move of her tongue. Her fingers curl around his shaft and tighten over hard, pulsing flesh, causing him to buck involuntarily. While she strokes him firmly, thumbing the ridges, her inner cheeks drag in one, long, unbearable suck.

Cullen casts a dozen oaths into the dawn, all led by his lady's name. Control is slipping away from him and it is terrifying. Attempting to rein in his animal noises and still his trembling muscles, he snatches up fistfuls of bed sheet and clenches his jaw. His eyes roll back and clamp shut, his chin thrusts out with determination. He growls behind his teeth as Petani takes a long, slow lick up the underside of his length. He feels her lips reach the tip once more, but this time she hesitates.

“Cullen?” her soft voice reaches for him. “You don't have to hold back.”

He opens his eyes, his face burning, speckled with perspiration. His fingers twist the sheets when he beholds her looking up at him with those jewelled eyes. “I...” he tries, but his voice is little more than a rasp.

“Why are you fighting?” It is such an innocent question.

Cullen releases a pent up breath, keenly aware that he is still throbbing in her palm. “I don't... know any other way.”

Honest. Vulnerable. He grimaces at his own words, feeling like a fool. For so long he has been focused, putting duty first, denying himself even basic comforts – Maker's breath, in this luxurious castle he sleeps in a barely furnished loft that has no roof! He is vigilant, always ready to do what is required of him. Any joy or pleasure he has allowed himself over the years has been measured. Physical needs have been ignored, for the most part. When he first forsook the Order and swore himself to the Inquisition, the Lyrium withdrawal was so painful that there were nights he thought he might die. And yet on the field, at the War Table, with his recruits, there was no crack in his powerful countenance. He showed no vulnerability, not through choice, but simply because he knew no alternative. He had been strong for so long that he had forgotten how to be weak.

Yes, he feels _weak_ in her embrace; not a soldier, but a man of flesh and blood. She steals his life force with her kisses, his resolve with her touch – his very mind, as if he is falling deeper into madness with every move she makes.

Petani's gaze is tinted with concern. She licks her lips tentatively and Cullen's eyes follow the motion. “I want to pleasure you, Cullen,” she tells him. “I want to give you something good. I know that you're a warrior – a Commander – and you're not used to being... passive. If you need to be in control, then I'll stop. You can lead.”

It stuns Cullen to hear her intuitive response. Her understanding and kindness touch his heart. “Inquisitor, no.” He catches himself in the habit of using her title. “Petani,” he corrects it, pushing himself up into a sitting position, feeling her soft hand release him. “Sweet Andraste, Petani! Your touch- you... It's more incredible than I could have dreamed. I am _lost_ in you.” His laboured breaths threaten to choke him. His body is burning.

“As I am in you. Tell me what you want and I'll do it. Anything.”

On her knees at his feet, naked and shimmering faintly with her own moisture, she is the most exciting vision Cullen has ever beheld. She means it. Her eyes are without guile or hesitation. He swallows back a tight lump in his throat.

“I, um...” How exactly does one ask a beautiful woman to suck his cock? “Well, I rather liked what you were... doing.” He chuckles almost bashfully.

Petani smiles and her little twinkle returns. “Mmm, so did I,” she purrs. Her fingers climb his thighs once more and make him shiver. “Now, Commander, if you need to hold onto something, you'd best grab my hair. I'm going to try all the things I've read about, and I think you'll enjoy it more if you're less... passive.”

His eyes widen momentarily. “You mean- UNH!” Raw pleasure seizes his manhood as Petani swallows him to the back of her throat in one fell move. Cullen's hips thrust automatically towards her. He reaches for her face, grunting at the new sensations, and tangles his fingers through her raven curls. She is stroking the base of his length, toying with his balls, setting her jaw in a way that will allow a deeper fit. Saliva trickles from the corners of her mouth and tears of exertion sparkle along her lashes. She curls her tongue around him and he groans.

Through dizzying waves of pleasure he finds himself amazed at her ability. There is a clumsy moment where he jabs into her tonsils and she gags a little, but she swiftly recovers and pushes ahead. Now accustomed to his girth, the elf girl finds a rhythm. With every detail controlled as if by significant forethought, she begins to fuck him with her mouth; he can feel her cheeks pulling him in, her wicked tongue lapping and dragging and coiling and– _Maker's breath!_ He aches from the base of his testicles to the tip of his organ and it feels incredible. Petani clamps her hands onto his buttocks and wrenches at him to stand. Cullen staggers up onto unsteady feet, gaping down at the sight of her sucking roughly on his cock. She moans against him. The vibrations tear at his resolve. He cannot help but rock into her, following her movements with eager hips, shaking with building desperation. Raw heat floods his lower body and his balls tighten in warning.

“Petani!” he gasps, clinging to her hair as if for dear life. “Petani, I'm- I'm-”

A noisy draw back that leaves him dripping with precum and saliva frees up Petani's mouth temporarily. She locks her gaze with his. Her messy lips spew the words: “Come. For. Me.”

Cullen jerks erratically as she swallows him up, another roar thundering through the broken rafters. He is so close. And she is looking up at him, waiting for it, wanting it. _Maker preserve me, I might die here... Maker take me, I don't give a damn!_ He fucks her back, and it is glorious.

The sound of the door below them shatters the vital moment. Someone bursts into Cullen's office, hollering: “Commander!”

Cullen jumps violently. His racing heart practically leaps into his throat. Petani falls back, coughing and spluttering, and rushes to silence herself with both hands over her mouth. Clamouring to cover the evidence of their tryst, the Commander trips over the upturned corner of the rug and crashes to the floor.

“Commander, are you all right?” the _very_ unwelcome voice calls up. The scout sounds urgent, almost frightened.

“ _What is it?!_ ” Cullen roars, at a volume that is far beyond polite levels. “What is _so important_ that you would barge in here?!”

There is a strangled silence, before the poor scout relocates his voice and squeaks: “Th-the Mages, Commander! In, in the yard! You're needed right away!”

Shoving his unspent privates angrily into his smallclothes, Cullen casts about for his clothing. Petani is still reeling from the surprise and attempting to regain her breath without making a sound. Whatever is happening outside is too urgent for the cumbersome routine of donning full armour; the Commander rushes to dress in a basic tunic and trousers. After pulling on his boots, he makes a leap for the hatch. He rumbles down the ladder like a roll of thunder, drops the last few feet, and comes up from a crouch to meet the intruder with a fearsome glare.

“This had better be _life or death,_ ” he growls, dragging the scout roughly through the doorway. “For _your_ sake.”

 


End file.
